Flashback Fridays: Guess All the Celebs and Win Something [Photos]

Okay...this flashback friday, we shall be doing another set of photo splash where you are to guess who the celebrities in the pictures are. If you succeed in getting the name of everyone in this post, you'll win free airtime for your phone (if you're based in Nigeria) and a special feature/review of your blog, a personal interview or granting of a request on The Kush Chronicles if you're based abroad. The prizes are not cast a stone, if you're in Naija and you want the prize option for those based abroad, then I'll also honor it as well.

Each photo is numbered so label the names by their numbers.

I might consider those who guess the most if not all.

So, ladies and gentlemen, guess away!














The answers will be revealed by next Friday on this same post. But then, I may still have a brainwave and extend it. It all depends on how it all turns out.

Special thanks to Naija Archive for some of the photos.

Have an awesome weekend y'all!

4 Screamer(s):

The 'Personally' Music Rant by GEJ & Patience

These guys at Buni TV are just cracking me the hell up with their satires. Thanks to the crazy internet memes replicated after the first lady's 'there is God oh' fiasco, they just keep getting more materials for their work. Like I said back then in an earlier post where I spoke about the show and its potential to become a success because of the 'loadedness' of scenarios in Nigeria's political arena. 

Now the 'there is God oh' phenomena has inspired Buni Tv to do a spoof music video featuring Puppet President Jonathan and Dame Patience.

Nna...odikwa serious oh...the shit is funny! Watch! 

0 Screamer(s):

The Chronicles X - The Streetwalker 2

Jeff looked at Okon.

Okon looked back at him.



‘Start the car now!’


Okon hurriedly started the engine and they drove off.

The prostitute reclined in the back seat and began to giggle. Jeff threw her a questioning glance trying to figure out what was in the offing.

She held his stare, flipped her eyebrows seductively and bit her lower lip. Then she licked her lips and began to caress herself, rubbing herself all over and sticking her hands in private and hidden places underneath her skimpy clothes.  All the while, her eyes stayed locked onto Jeff’s.

Jeff was stunned. He couldn’t comprehend the logic of what was happening. He pinched himself to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. The ache in his balls as a result of the desire raging in his trousers reassured him that he wasn’t.

Okon was equally stupefied. When he heard her begin to moan, his eyes had darted to the rear-view mirror and he had seen a performance that looked like something straight out of some erotic movie. Twice he had almost climbed the culvert dividing the road lanes in the battle to keep his eyes on the road.

Jeff felt himself trembling. Beads of sweat began to plaster his face and lodge under his armpits despite the powerful air-conditioning of the car. The taunt was just too much for him to absorb.

Then he watched in a fiery daze as she slowly pulled off the blouse, which was void of a bra underneath, and dropped it on the car seat. She sat there half naked in the back seat, her full frontals questioning his manhood.

‘Come here baby boy’ she whispered in sing song and pulled at his blazer. He followed suit scampering over the front seat into the back.

‘Hey! What the hell…?’ Okon suddenly felt the need to protest. He had also watched the blouse come off through the mirror and had almost driven off the third mainland bridge which they were ascending. Thanks to the lascivious distraction going on behind him. Jealousy suddenly began to seed in him as he watched Jeff being yanked into the back seat.

‘Okon, keep your eyes on the road…I’ll come for you when I’m finished with Jeff’

In between hearing that sweet girlish assuring voice, a spot of bother crept into his mind.

How did she know their names?

But the raging desire and eagerness to get a piece of the action brewing in his backseat had become so intensified that it choked the thought out of his mind.

The excitement surging through him sort of caused him to almost floor the pedal. The car surged forward as the automatic gear shifted to higher speed.

In the back seat, the lady had switched position with Jeff and made him to sit while she straddled his lap. She worked her way round his face and along his neck, licking and biting. Her right hand slipped into his trousers and began to work him into pleasured frenzy.

Jeff moaned.

She chuckled.

Okon trembled.

The car moved faster.

Jeff shrieked.

Okon giggled.

No doubt about it, his insatiable friend had probably met his match.

Then Jeff screamed.

It wasn’t a scream of ecstasy or pleasure.

It was a scream of horror and pain.

Okon’s eyes flew up to the mirror but all he saw was the prostitute on Jeff’s lap. Her back was obstructing his view of Jeff. Besides, it was a bit dark in the car as they were now cruising through areas on the bridge where the streetlights were dead.

He heard sounds like a scuffle or struggle but then it also sounded like body slaps of ecstasy. He heard what sounded like horrified shrieks, gasps and grunts from Jeff, tearing and ripping sounds. All the while the whore giggled and laughed intermittently. The whole cacophony was confusing. It wasn’t the usual thing you heard when a person was getting laid.

‘Hey, what’s going on back there?’ Okon felt his voice quivering. Fear and a twinge of regret were beginning to build. The policeman’s warning began to resound again in his head. The sexual desires began to subside. He needed to stop and find out what drama was playing out in the back seat.

‘Keep driving Okon! You mustn’t stop the car’. The prostitute’s stern command came from behind.

‘The hell I will!‘ Okon replied, suddenly fed up with the whole mystique and suspense. His anger for a moment overwhelmed the fear.

He shifted his foot from the gas pedal to the brake and the car began to slow down as he made an attempt to stop.

In the flash of an instant, the prostitute appeared in the seat next to him. It was so fast that Okon couldn’t make out how she had moved swiftly into that position; it was more as if she had teleported herself from the back to the front seat within the second his foot touched the brake pedal.

‘Didn’t I tell you to keep driving?’ she growled at him.

Okon was incensed. He brought the car to a complete halt near the bridge banister and turned off the engine. The night was silent except for the occasional turbulence that vibrated through the bridge and the zooming of one or two cars passing by. He then turned to her to give her a piece of his mind.

‘You dey craze? Who do you think you are barking orders at us?’

She didn’t answer. All he heard was her heavy breathing. He couldn’t see her face clearly in the dark.

Then another thought hit him.


He turned round to look at his colleague in the backseat. It was dark and he couldn’t see very well.

‘Jeff!’ He called out but got no answer.

The prostitute giggled.

He looked back at her fearing the worst; the fear that Jeff had been wrong all along.

‘One woman against two full bodied men? Just take a good look at her and tell me how dangerous she looks!’

Right now, everything about her felt and looked dangerous.

He quickly reached up and switched on the inner lights.

He turned pale as a horrific sight from the backseat greeted his eyes.

Jeff or what was left of Jeff lay still in sitting position. His face was literarily gone; as if some vicious animal had eaten it off. All that was left was a bloody mass of gutted flesh and partially exposed parts of the skull. His eyes were gone leaving dark orifices where they had once been. His bowels and chest had been ripped open and his entrails scattered across his laps. The outlines of his ribs stood out in between gored flesh as if they were dying to come out. He looked like road kill…and he was very dead.

Okon felt his heartbeat pace up haphazardly as he turned sharply and fearfully to look at the prostitute.

Her face, long dark hair and half naked body was stained with blood; her full round breasts included. Some of the blood was beginning to cake on her skin and it seemed to blend into her red bum shorts.

She looked Okon in the eye and smiled; nicely set dentures stained by blood and bits of partially masticated flesh.

‘You shouldn’t have stopped the car.’ She said in that same haunting breathy sexy voice.

Okon, rendered speechless and horrified to death turned round hastily to flee out of the car but suddenly by some remote force the car’s central lock system snapped all the door locks shut.

The prostitute threw back her head and laughed.

The laughter rang through his ears almost bursting his eardrums. He covered his ears and cowered in his seat, his heartbeat thundering loudly and almost sending him into shock.

She suddenly stopped laughing and looked at him again. Her eyes had changed. Fire seemed to burn inside them. And as she looked at him they seem to burn into his soul.

‘Now let’s go for a ride!’ she growled in a voice that was no longer sweet nor girlish.

Okon felt the car’s engine start by itself; the gear shifted into drive. Then the gas pedal went down and the Honda took off. He cringed in horror as he watched the car cruise by itself, building into dangerous speed. He opened his mouth to beg but his voice seemed to have been seized by some strange force.

‘Don’t pick anybody you see on the road…especially if it’s a lady’

The cops warning rang through his head in a looped thought trail of regret.

This can’t be happening. This has got to be a dream.

He closed his eyes whimpering in fear, hoping to find himself back on his bed at home. The car brushed over a connecting joint on the bridge jolting him and bringing to his realization that it wasn’t a dream.

Then in another instant teleporting flash the prostitute appeared sitting astride his lap; her naked bloodstained breasts thrust close to his face. She held up his face to look into her own.

Okon beheld the horrific eyes in the pretty face.  Her breath fanned his face; its warmth stung his eyes.

‘Didn’t I tell you I could handle the both of you?’ She said gently in a voice…or rather voices that sent chills cascading down Okon’s spine. It was as though several voices had spoken at once.

She bent down as if to kiss him.

Then her face changed.

Her eyes became larger and rounder with flaming irises. Her smiling dentures began to elongate into sharp ones. Her ears suddenly became pointed as her skin and breasts turned crusty and scaly. The speeding car was suddenly filled with the smell of acrid burning and brimstone.

Okon opened his mouth and let out a blood curdling scream.

The car suddenly lost control as it skidded to one side of the road, hit the middle culvert which sent the car cart wheeling into a ghastly somersault.

It rolled several times scattering pieces of glass and metal across the asphalt; bits of debris and forgotten caked mud from underneath the car went airborne in different directions creating a dusty fog around the area; a tyre wrenched out of its place by the impact is sent flying into the oncoming lane. The car’s cart-wheeling was eventually stalled as it smashed into the bridge banister which, fortunately, was strong enough to stop it from plunging into the lagoon below.

Five seconds after the incident, Sergeant Mike and his partner came running towards the wreckage. They stood for a moment, taking in the whole scene.

‘Human beings…they just never listen.’ The second cop murmured.

Sergeant Mike shook his head more in disappointment than in sympathy. He motioned to his colleague and they moved towards the wreckage of the car. Effortlessly, they plied open a crushed part of what remained of the car’s roof and pulled out a half dead Okon; his clothes had been shredded and he had cuts and bruises on his arms and face. Jeff’s corpse had been mangled beyond recognition in the wreckage. It would take Okon to identify who he was. As for the prostitute, there was no sign of her. She seemed to have vanished completely; even the blouse which she had removed had disappeared completely.

They laid Okon on the floor next to the wreckage. He groaned in pain.

‘This one was fortunate. He still had grace upon him; he’ll live.’ said the Sergeant.

‘People are going to wonder how he survived this accident’, replied the second cop.

The Sergeant smiled and turned to his fellow officer.

‘That, my friend is why it is called ‘a miracle’, the result of somebody praying for him yesterday.’

He looked again at the wreckage and at the groaning Okon.

‘Tomorrow, it will be reported as an accident with one casualty. No one will know about the Streetwalker. She’ll be out again seeking souls to devour and as for him… ’, he gestured in Okon’s direction; ‘…he won’t remember seeing her. His memory of the lust demon will be erased.’

‘If only men can come to realize that their weakness is the devil’s greatest tool, maybe they’d be more careful’, retorted the second cop.

The Sergeant sighed and looked up into the dark night sky as he took note of the timing.

‘Well, our job is done here. There are other matters that need our attention. Shall we…?’

And in a rapid flash that illuminated the scene under another five seconds, the two policemen made a quick transformation from human beings into radiant and glowing figure forms of energy. Then in an instant faster than the blink of an eye, they teleported upwards into the night sky in their angelic glory and vanished.


‘Hey…Yoju… see that chick…she’s waving at us!’ Phil retorted as the view of a buxom young lady in white diaphanous blouse and red tight-fitting bum shorts came into view a few meters ahead of them.

They had left the LAIF event an hour later after Okon and Jeff had departed.

Yoju was not a fast driver like Okon. He was a meticulous individual and always maintained a certain speed limit; even the fact that his fully paid for Hyundai accent was still new did not give him a reason to throttle the car’s swiftness to the limit. Also he despised the fact they were still out at late hours beyond his usual bedtime which was 10.30pm.

He craned his neck to properly view the feminine figure waving at them in the distance. Everything about her was inviting; from her beaming smiles to her outstanding curves that seemed to offer something promising. She looked harmless and totally helpless.

Yoju in his usual way weighed his options meticulously and made up his mind.

He shifted his feet back on the throttle and the Hyundai gathered speed as its auto gear engaged and powered the car forward. They left the bewildered prostitute behind glaring at them as the car disappeared in the distance.

Phil turned to his colleague, disappointed at his action.

‘Yoju…why now?’

‘See the time. Work no dey tomorrow? Abi you wan get query because you decided to pursue a piece of ass?’

‘We for at least find out what’s up with the chick now…’

Yoju laughed.

‘What about the warning from the policemen that stopped us?’

‘So you believe them? What if they were wrong?’

He looked back at his colleague, a frown of seriousness creasing his brows.

‘And what if they were right?

Phil gave him a frustrated look.

‘Spoil sport!’ he hissed at his friend and nestled deeper in the cushion of his seat.

And as they sped off into the night, the entities watched them; the one that reeked of evil lust and the angelic ones that had, oblivious to them, ushered the instruction to safety.


3 Screamer(s):

The Chronicles X - The Streetwalker

‘Jesus!!’ Okon screamed as he slammed his feet hard on the brakes of the ash-grey Honda Accord.

The car screeched violently to an abrupt halt, skewing a bit to the side on the empty service lane of the expressway.

Standing in the middle of the road and in the glare of his headlamps was a police officer with a hand stretched out, beckoning him to stop.

‘What the hell…where did he spring from?’ Jeff, his colleague who was seated beside him retorted in shock. The sudden act had scared him so hard he’d almost crapped his pants. Imbalance and loss of composure always had this funny effect on his bowels.

The policeman walked over to the driver’s side and motioned Okon to wind down the window.

Okon was reluctant.

A policeman suddenly springing up in the middle of an expressway out of the blues was way too suspicious.

Then he saw the second cop, then the checkpoint barricade and the police pick-up. They seemed to appear as if they had been overshadowed by some strange and unobvious night fog.

How come he hadn’t seen them when he was coming? He blinked hard trying to clear his head of the slightest effect of the alcohol he’d had at the event he and Jeff had attended.

The LAIF Awards, an event that celebrated the best of the best in the Advertising Industry, had ran late into the night. It was already 11.30pm by the time the event was beginning to wrap up. Okon, Jeff and a number of their office colleagues had attended to represent their agency as they were billed to receive three of the awards.

Okon and Jeff had decided to leave early. And as Okon would recall, he had decided not to take too much of alcohol. He had opted for just a bottle. He also took four canned beers as take-away. Phil and Yoju from Account management had ridiculed him, accusing him of hoarding party beer for his fridge at home because he was too stingy to buy some. Okon had ignored them. Though he was no stranger to heavy consumption of alcohol, he was careful not to take too much before getting behind the wheel. Now he wasn’t sure if the one bottle he had taken was messing with his head and making an apparition out of the stark reality that was instructing him to wind down.

The tapping on his window re-alerted his attention.

He wound down the glass just a little bit. He didn’t want to give the cop full access just in case he wasn’t who he seemed to be.

The cop leaned forward. His black uniform seemed to blend with the night. He had a thin moustache and friendly eyes which to Okon was unsettling. The man didn’t seem the least bit threatening.

‘Hello sir. You should watch your speed. You almost hit me.’

‘Sorry officer. I didn’t see you. We were hurrying to get home…you know how dangerous this area is at night.’

‘Well you’ve got nothing to worry about…’cause we’re here to ensure your protection.’

Jeff scoffed. He was your typical average social critic who had no faith in the police and strongly believed the force was doomed.

Okon noticed the officer’s name tag read ‘Mike’ and that he wore three stripes on his shoulder to depict his ranking.

 ‘So what do you want Sergeant Mike? My driver’s license and vehicle particulars?’ he said putting the name tag and rank to use. Someone once told him Policemen, especially corrupt ones, avoided extorting or harassing motorists who took note of their name tags or regimen numbers.

The officer smiled.

Okon felt awkward. For some reason he felt strongly that he was making an error in judgment of the cop.

‘Yes sir, I’d like to see them.’ The cop answered, in between smiles.

Okon handed him the papers.

The cop perused them leaf by leaf and then handed the bunch back.

‘You may go sir…and please don’t pick anybody you see on the road…’ he leaned a bit closer as if to further emphasize, ‘…especially if it’s a lady.’

Jeff laughed scornfully.

The officer looked at him, then back at Okon.

‘Even if your friend here persuades you to…don’t.’

Jeff stopped laughing. There was something weird about the way the cop spoke that made the laughter die harshly in his throat; it was like the statement had sent a shockwave that deflected his vocal cords and suffocated the desire to laugh. And rather than feel offended, Jeff felt like he had been caught pants down at some mischief. An unexplainable guilt sliced through his conscience like hot knife through butter.

‘Okay…umm thank you officer.’ Okon responded.

The officer nodded him to proceed. Okon wound up and drove off.

As the car disappeared in the distance, the second cop walked up to where Sergeant Mike stood.

‘So? Do you think he took your warning seriously?’ he asked.

The Sergeant looked at his fellow officer and shrugged.

 ‘Let’s wait and see.’ He replied and they both walked back to the pick-up.


Okon watched his speed this time and strained his eyes to stay alert. He didn’t want any more surprises. He concentrated on the road intensely, his hands firmly on the wheel as if ready for the unexpected. They soon reached a part of the expressway which had lit up streetlights. Seeing street lights was somewhat relieving.

‘Who the hell does that dude think he is instructing us on what to do?’ Jeff exploded eventually breaking out of his shell. In the usual cowardly way of after getting out of harm’s way, he’d gotten his confidence and composure back. Never in his life had he been that much unnerved to such an extreme by a mere statement.

‘He must have known you’re a notorious womanizer.’

‘Dem dey write am for face?’

‘No…but your reputation precedes you.’

‘Biko! I no be popular jingo like tha…’ Jeff began but suddenly trailed off as Okon hit the brakes again and he bumped his head slightly against the windscreen. He had forgotten to belt up.

He cursed, rubbing the part of his head where the impact had sprung a pain and a small bruise. He turned to see his friend gazing at something ahead.

He followed Okon’s gaze and saw what had provoked the abrupt halt.

It was a woman standing by the side of the road.

She stood about 5’8 on a pair of red intimidating high heels. She sported a silky white diaphanous spaghetti top that struggled to cover her chest area; the exposed top of her ample bosoms glistened under the streetlight as if they had been polished and prepared for the night. She had well toned legs that stretched proportionately from her curvy body; and she wore a pair of naughtily designed red tight fitting bum shorts that clung scandalously to her well chiseled hips.

The two men looked at each other as if to acknowledge that they were both seeing the same thing and then looked back at the sexy spectacle ahead of them.

‘Man…that is one hot bushmeat!’ Jeff drawled, fighting hard to contain the rancid lust that was going out of control in him.

‘Confirm! See curves…’Okon couldn’t resist joining the adrenalin chorus.

Jeff tapped the window button and the glass went down. The whirring sound of winding glass snapped Okon back to his senses.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Getting me some bushmeat!’

‘You heard what that policeman said…’

‘Okon! Haba…don’t tell me you took that guy serious.’

‘But what if she…’

‘What if she what? One woman against two full bodied men? Just take a good look at her and tell me how dangerous she looks. Does it look like she’s concealing a weapon? Come on!’

Okon turned to look at the lady again. The nature of her clothing was too skin-tight to conceal anything and the purse in her hand was small enough to carry nothing but cash and condoms. Jeff was particularly right; she looked obviously clean.

‘I don’t know sha …’

‘Look, I don’t know about you but I can’t sit here and be suffering and smiling…I must do something about it before another sharp guy picks that girl.’

‘But…how you sure say she be ashi?’

Jeff gave him a nasty disappointed look.

‘Why you dey fall my hand like this?…Which kain stupendous intete of a question is that?’

‘I was just asking!’

‘Na so so question you go ask till the girl enter voicemail abi?’

 ‘Take am easy now…’

‘Look if you’re not interested, you can drop me…’ he gave Okon a wry look, ‘I’ll gist you the luscious details tomorrow at work.’

Okon didn’t like that.

More so, he didn’t like the idea of Jeff alone having a nice time in the arms of the delectable damsel. After all he too was ‘human’ and was very capable of ‘responding’ to feminine stimuli.

‘Ehn…but you selfish oh…are you the only man here?’

But before Jeff could reply, someone taped on the window on his side. He turned and held his breath, more out of excitement than out of surprise.

The lady stood there smiling and waving. Oblivious to both of them, she had walked up to the car while they had been arguing.

‘Hi! You guys looking for some good time?’ She had a girlish voice that was sweet, sassy and playful.

 Okon was impressed. He had been expecting her to blurt out in pidgin or some corrupted form of English but her accent put her in the place of being enlightened. Maybe she was a campus chick doing this as part-time.

‘Are you the only one around here? Don’t you have a friend that can join us?’ Jeff managed to say after forcing himself to stop looking at her breasts.

In response she leaned further into the car till her mind-blowing frontals where just a few inches from Jeff’s livid face. He could smell a mixture of perfume and hormones. He could also smell his own racing breath as it bounced on her chest and back in his face.

She then looked at Okon, pouted her lips and blew him a kiss. The gesture hit Okon so hard that he felt a sudden strange desire irrigate his entire body and quickly build into a wild sensation that fought madly beneath his trousers.

‘Don’t worry’, she cooed, ‘I can handle the two of you.’

For some reason which they themselves could not explain, the two men believed her and agreed; none of them questioned her any further. She had this unearthly sex appeal that had robbed them of their senses and put them on some remote control.

She opened the door and climbed into the back seat of the car. She sat there looking at the dazed men with a taunting smile.

‘Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s go!’

Her retort snapped them out of their lustful dream states into reality.

‘Uh…yeah….but we haven’t even discussed how much you…’ Jeff began but she cut him off.

‘Screw the money. Leave it for later. I just wanna…’ her voice dropped and became breathy ‘… have fun!’

To be concluded…

1 Screamer(s):

An Igbo Boy And His Swag [Funny Video + Photo]

Its usually a general conception that Igbo guys like money, hence they love to hustle....and to the max they will hustle. But when these guys don hammer, they develop an amusing level of confidence and rustic charisma that could be quite entertaining or amusing.
I have Igbo friends and I always like studying the ones with zest for business. Its a calling that God seems to have bestowed upon that tribe.

Its amazing how many of them do it with charm and girls (both enlightened and not) fall flat for them. I came across this amusing video of an Igbo boy (a successful one with a chain of businesses) trying to woo an 'akata' (Nigerian chick that has been 'Americanised' either by orientation or by birth) and despite the girl trying to fall his hand, the guy still stands tall and maintain his swag. 

With all the jibes coming from the girl (who speaks with American accent) he never gets floored by talk. Check out the video below.

1 Screamer(s):

Flashback Fridays: Yvonne Maha the Wonder Kid

Many who grew up in the 1980s will very much remember this talented child singer named Yvonne Maha. She stands for what the perfect Naija child star should sound like back in those days with songs that impact kids positively, not like today's Ozzy Bosco and Amarachi who have no idea about music and constantly have their voices over-cooked on computer auto-tuning, not to talk of the fact that the lame lyrics of a song that's just plain silly stunt for commercial reasons.

Listening to her music, I could still see the professionalism and power of childish purity that had undoubtedly been under adult direction and puppetry. Yvonne's voice is lovely and nice to listen to; a production credit that should go to the genius of the late Sonny Okosun. 

Yvonne was a child star that set the pace for the likes of other Child stars like Tosin Jegede and maybe Benita. I often ask the question where is she today? Rumours have abound about her passing away due to an abortion but the rumours where later discovered to be lies. The same rumour would be noted to have been passed down onto Tosin Jegede as well.   

In my search to find out more about what's up with Yvonne today, I came across this interesting article from Uchenna Ikonne of Comb & Razor:

I think it was sometime in late 1985 that I first heard that Yvonne Maha was dead.

Two years earlier, she had been the sensational talent find of 1983. Her Sonny Okosuns-produced debut Child For Sale had been a smashing success--the toast of the primary school hit parade, the soundtrack to many a preteen birthday party and family roadtrip. She had blown into our lives like a whirlwind of adorableness and goshdarn it, the public was sucked in. Now two years had passed since anybody had seen or heard anything from her. Two years can feel like a mighty long time when you've been alive for just over a decade yourself, and people started to wonder and speculate as to why she hadn't come out with another album. 

Yvonne being interviewed on the Bala Miller Show
And then the news of her fate hit the national gossip network: Yvonne had gotten pregnant. Tried to have an abortion. Something went wrong. She died.

Now this puzzled the hell out of me at the time. "She was having an abortion? How old was she, thirteen?"

"Yes," my aunt replied sternly. "That's why she died. She was too young and her body could not withstand the pregnancy. And the moral of the story is: Don't have sex before marriage! You hear?"

Well, however well-meaning the moral may have been, the story itself was soon discredited as pure fabu(lism): Some people knew which secondary school Yvonne Maha went to and confirmed that she had never been pregnant and was certainly not dead. Everybody breathed a sigh of relief and went back to waiting for her follow-up to Child For Sale.

About two years later, the rumor mill once again reported again that Yvonne Maha had died.

"I thought they said she died two years ago!" I groaned.

"That was just a rumor," my aunt clucked. "She didn't die back then, but she's dead now. This time it's true."

"How did she die?"

"Complications from abortion."


"And that is why you should not have sex before marriage!"

After that, the "Yvonne Maha is dead" story would resurface anew every few years. And with each new iteration, its peddlers would firmly assure you that yes, this time she really was dead and that yes, she died during an abortion. As recently as 2005 I heard people telling that story.

Well, for the record: In 2007 Yvonne Maha is alive and well and living in Brazil. But the persistent reports of her demise do kind of beg an interesting question: Why did the public seem to so desperately want--almostneed--Yvonne Maha dead? And from an abortion, of all things? And why is it that as years have gone by and Yvonne Maha has receded somewhat in the public's memory, the "death by abortion" story has been passed on to early-90s preteen singer Tosin Jegede? (For the record: Tosin Jegede is not dead, she's a sculptor.)

Could it be that these little girl singers represent purity and innocence, and so the thought of them growing up into womanhood and inevitably engaging in womanly activities such as sexual intercourse is so unacceptable that we must create these myths where their sexual precocity leads to their destruction?

> shrug < Shit, I dunno.

Anyway, if you were a kid in Nigeria in the 80s, you almost certainly know this album inside out. Listening to it now, I'm surprised at how well it holds up for me--I mean, even if twee cutesy-kiddie stuff like this makes your molars hurt, you can't completely front on the music itself, can you? This was the period when Sonny Okosuns could do no wrong and his Ozziddi band was on the way to becoming the Ozziddi brand. The tasteful instrumental performances and production on this album are very much on par with great Okosuns albums such as Fire in Soweto and 3rd World. I remember really loving the backing vox on this record, and they still sound pretty good to me, too.

The song "Don't Treat Me Like a Child" still makes me slightly uncomfortable, too. I used to love this song back in '83, when I first realized that I loved ballads, but even then I thought it was a bit on the creepy side. It was so obviously a ventriloquist number with a grownup putting these supposedly cute/coy words into a little girl's mouth, but what made it particularly discomfiting was the video: Yvonne and some boy sitting on a bench at Apapa Amusement Park, dressed in their best birthday party duds as she serenades him. Both of them look ungodly embarrassed by the whole affair, especially the end where she reluctantly slides over (you can actually see her blushing as she looks off camera at someone who is obviously goading her forward) and hugs him, singing "Wait for me to grow up... Then I will kiss you, too... Then I will kiss you... Wait for me to grow up, then I will love you... too."

And the worst thing about it was that rumor had it the boy was her brother!

- Uchenna Ikonne

Tosin Jegede is still in the news from time to time. Her pictures are available on the internet so we know how she looks today. But with Yvonne, its been hard getting a photo of her online. 

Tosin Jegede as child star and as adult
In my search for Yvonne's whereabouts and how she looks today, I came across this lady on Soundcloud.com who calls herself Yvonne 'Maha' Okolo (probably now married?). Is she the same Yvonne Maha that touched the hearts of all of us back then now fully grown? Anybody that knows should hit me up abeg.

Is the lady on the right Yvonne Maha?

Looking at her face and that of the young girl on the 1980s album, Child for sale they seem to have similar looking noses and smile but i don't want to fully assume until I get a clearer info. 

I know that if Internet existed back then, we'd have enough info but sadly it didn't so we'll have to demand on humans with first hand information.

I'm looking forward to the day we will have another kid like Yvonne who can really sing without their voices being manipulated by music production software to actually sound good; a kid that can sing songs that have substance and not repetition of lame words and worded sound effects all for the sake of commercialization only. As far as I am concerned, Yvonne Maha, Tosin Jegede and maybe Benita where the actual wonder kids of music; Ozzy Bosco being called a wonder kid is only because he happened to be the only one on the scene making noise like many other clueless artistes today. That's why he could win some award and receive a 'chieftaincy' title. The poor boy is just some adult's untalented cash cow.

0 Screamer(s):

Bring Back Our Girls - Across the Globe [Photos]

One of my readers asked me why I haven't done anything on the missing school girls of Chibok and I tolk her I hadn't thought of what to actually do concerning that. This is because I usually want to do something that's not usual but just couldn't think of anything. Besides, the whole world is already making the noise so I was thinking was there any use of me doing likewise too?

While there is an campaign that's crying out and spreading across the globe like wildfire, there are still questions that bug me about the missing girls...questions that poke holes in the stories surrounding their disappearance. It is loopholes like this that makes some people wonder the authenticity of the story but then a lot of other things have confirmed that the girls were really abducted. Out of the numerous questions asked, there is one that I'll always echo..

Why are there no photos displayed of the missing girls yet?

I guess we may never know why...

Ibrahim Abdullahi

The #BringBackOurGirls campaign was started by Ibrahim Abdullahi who was part of the audience for a speech in Port Harcourt by Obiageli Ezekwesili - a Nigerian former minister who called for the government to take action to "bring back our daughters".

The statement caught on and tweets calling for the government to #BringBackOurDaughters emerged but Ibrahim had a brainwave and thought that not everyone may have a daughter and that the afore hashtagged statement may limit people expressing it across. According to him "we may all not have daughters but everyone has a girl". Thus he made the modification which he reflected in his tweet that began the trend.

Later human rights activists and organisations began to thread along and gradually it spread across the globe till it gathered a life of its own. It was not a campaign that was marshaled for others to rise up and do the same; it just became a phenomenon that was further helped by Nigerians and sympathizers based abroad who also staged protests.

Across the world, its buzzing and the photos are numerous....

Celebrities such as the US first lady and hollywood stars and artistes also joined 'chorus' by instagramming or tweeting pictures in solidarity call for the girls to be found. 

This is probably the most trended pic for the campaign...Michelle Obama carrying her own card

Leona Lewis

P Diddy

Actors and artistes like Ashtom Kutcher, Drake, Justin Timberlake, John Legend, Jamie Fox, Ludacriss etc...focused mainly on hitting back at the Boko Haram leader's threat to sell the girls. They all waded into a campaign that was an offshoot of the #bringbackourgirls trend which said, 'Real Men Don't Buy Girls'. I guess that was targeted at discouraging anyone from purchasing the girls.

More pictures from Nigeria and across the globe...

Sierra Leone Rally

Nigerian women rally be-crying the girls

South African Rally

Ogilvy one Africa 

The campaign is on her shirt

The campaign has been yielding results as the World Powers are standing up to help Nigeria with the situation. Social media helped herald the information with the likes of tweets from John Kerry of the US

And as we speak, the forces from the US are already arriving in Naija.

Let's all hope and pray that this marks the end for the Boko Haram menace and the safe rescue and return of the girls.

0 Screamer(s):